


Hurricane.

by laura_sommeils



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laura_sommeils/pseuds/laura_sommeils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are moments of silence in the middle of the hurricane that Bokuto is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane.

**Author's Note:**

> Diclaimer: Akaashi and Bokuto don't belong to me :(  
> I apologize for any mistake you might come across, english isn't my first language! (If you find a mistake, pleace tell me so I can fix it ^^) Also, thank you so much for taking the time to read my fanfic! :)

Bokuto is noisy, a hurricane of energy and words. He is a thousand texts on Akaashi’s cellphone, spiking practices that seem endless, half-spoken metaphors that didn’t hold that much meaning even to begin with.

(But…)

But there are moments of silence in the middle of the hurricane that Bokuto is.   

Days in which Bokuto rests his head on Akaashi’s shoulder, his hair touching his friend’s neck like the memory of a dream, their hands interlacing almost on instinct. The only thing they hear is their breathing and the only thing they feel is each other’s presence, and the warmth that that unfolds.

Instants in which Bokuto’s expression changes into a defeated one. His palms turning into fists, his mouth taking the form of a dry flower and his arms shaking at the memory of the ball he couldn’t receive successfully. In those moments, the only thing that seems true is Akaashi standing by his side, giving Bokuto the time he needs to restore his strength and try again.

Minutes in which their lips meet, their chests shaking due to the impatient and certain need of their hands travelling each other’s bodies, memorizing spines vertebra by vertebra, retelling the gentle declining of their sternums, leaving caresses in each other’s clavicles.

Seconds in which their voices mix in a horde of words that only they are able to unravel. A language that springs in their lips and gains a deeper meaning because of their eyes, unfolds in the touch of their hands.

They’re the hurricane that Bokuto is and the fortitude that Akaashi represents.

(Is more than enough.)


End file.
